Time to Let Go
by ClearRivers180
Summary: A terminal illness takes hold of Monica. Can her best friends, especially her brother, move on and eventually let go? RR with a bit of MC. Please read & review!
1. Chapter 1: A Month Or Two To Live

**CHAPTER 1**

Monica awoke with a nasty start and frantically took in her surroundings, sweating profusely. She felt ill in an unpleasant way that she hadn't experienced in several months. A fearful realization seized her and she began hyperventilating. Chandler was sound asleep next to her and he looked so peaceful for once that Monica didn't have the heart to wake him.

Monica sat up in bed and closed her eyes, trying to take steady cleansing breaths. Still the pain would not alleviate. She reached over and grabbed two capsules that her doctor had given her for pain and swallowed them whole without any water. She figured that this was a momentary fluke that would recede in the morning. Actually, she more so hoped.

Monica wrapped her thick robe around her trembling shoulders and pulled all of the covers up over her. The pills immediately sedated her, and she drifted off.

* * *

Chandler woke the next morning to find the other side of his bed empty. He could hear sounds coming from the bathroom, and became worried. These days, his wife slept in long after he got up.

Chandler forced himself out of bed and across the apartment. He cautiously rapped on the bathroom door.

"Mon?" He called. "You all right in there?" His response was a low, painful moan. The door swung opened to reveal a shivering, stark pale Monica. She held onto the sides of the doorframe for support.

"Honey?" Chandler asked, now very concerned.

Monica was about to say something, but instead her eyes rolled into her head and she collapsed into Chandler's arms.

* * *

Joey was eating his breakfast and was only half-awake as usual when the door burst open. This revived him enough. Standing in the doorway was Chandler, panting heavily and white as a sheet. 

"Chandler?" he gasped and went to his best friend. "What happened, man?"

"Mon...i...ca..." he managed. "She passed out. I called 911. Will you call the others?"

"Oh God, yea, sure man, I'll do that. Do you want some water?"

"No, I don't think I can keep anything down right now. Just do that for me, man."

"Yea. Of course. We'll all come as soon as we can." Chandler nodded his gratitude and left.

Joey immediately picked up the phone, his nerveless fingers dialing.

* * *

"You can't be serious!" Chandler yelled at Dr. Rosenberg, Monica's neurosurgeon. He shook his head continuously, refusing to believe what he had just heard. 

"I would never lie to you, Chandler, or your friends. You know that by now," the doctor said firmly, but there was a hint of sadness.

"So-so there's nothing you can do to remove it?" Phoebe asked shakily, gripping Chandler's arm and holding Rachel's hand with her other.

"No, Phoebe. As I said, Monica's tumor is lethally inoperable. The growth is located so deep within her brain, that by performing that gamma knife surgery we talked about, we could risk destroying her brain stem. By continuing with the radiation, we can possibly retard the tumor's development, but that's it."

Rachel could feel tears welling up in her eyes. "How long would she have?"

"A month. Maybe two." The fact hit them all like cold water. Their friend would be dead before summer began.

"Can we see her?" Joey managed hoarsely.

"In about fifteen minutes. She's receiving a round of radiation now. I'm very sorry, Chandler. This is a doctor's worst nightmare. Looking at a patient's loved ones and telling them that nothing can be done." Dr. Rosenberg turned on his heel and left the shocked, grieving gang.

"Who's going to tell Ross?" Joey asked after several moments of silence.

Rachel sighed. "I know I said I would call him at work. But I don't think I can do this over the phone. He's going to be pissed enough at me for not telling him to come in the first place, without hearing the news."


	2. Chapter 2: Why Her?

**CHAPTER 2**

Nothing in Rachel Green's thirty-one years of life could have ever prepared her for what she was about to do. She had to tell Ross, her ex-boyfriend, ex-husband, best friend, and the father of her only child that his little sister was going to die. She wasn't even sure if she could achieve it. She remembered a point in time six months ago, when Monica had been going through chemo and radiation. She had made a promise to Ross.

FLASHBACK

_Rachel entered her apartment one Wednesday evening after having had a long, hard day at work. Then again, everything was stressful lately with Monica being sick._

_Rachel stopped in her tracks to behold an unexpected sight: Ross was standing by the window, crying. She hadn't seen this happen in a while, even since Monica was diagnosed. _

"_Ross, what's wrong?" she asked in a concerned voice._

_He turned around and looked at her with tears misting in his brown eyes and spilling over. Rachel's heart went out to him and all she wanted to do was hold him. However, before she could do anything, his voice rang out desperately._

"_I'm just so tired of being strong, Rachel. Everyone expects that because I conceal my emotions well, I have none at all. And nobody even gives me credit. Yeah, I'm good at appearing strong, but I have needs, too!" He sat down and buried his head in his hands, sobbing wretchedly. Rachel positioned herself beside him and draped her arm around him. With her free hand, she turned his face toward her._

"_That's not true, Ross. I have always admired your strength. We all do. It's what's gotten us all through this tough time. But you're right, enough is enough. You deserve all you've given to us, and you will get it. Come here." She pulled him against her chest, caressed his hair and kissed the top of his head. He snuggled as close as he could, never having felt more comfortable._

_In her arms, Ross no longer had to hide anything._

PRESENT

Rachel checked herself in the mirror again. Her eyes were no longer red, and her face was clear. She smoothed her sleek blond hair for probably the millionth time in the past hour. That was when she heard the apartment door swing open and her heart leapt to her throat.

"Rach?" she heard Ross call. She took a deep breath and walked out of the bathroom.

"Hey, Ross," she said softly.

Seeing him standing there with a content, unsuspecting expression, having absolutely no idea what was happening to his sister and no idea of the awful, earth-shattering bomb she was about to drop on him nearly took Rachel's precious breath away. However, there was no turning back now.

"Everything all right?" he asked, breaking into her trance.

Unable to find her voice right away, she shook her head. "No, sweetie," she managed in a croak. She then motioned to the couch. "Sit down."

Eying her strangely, Ross did as he was told. Rachel followed suit, swallowed painfully, and took his hand in both of her trembling ones.

"Ross, it's Monica."

"What?! Is she okay"?"

Rachel gulped again. He wasn't going to make this any easier. "No, Ross, she's not. She passed out this morning, right after you had left for work and before I was about to. Chandler, Joey, Phoebe and I rushed to the hospital. Her tumor's growing. The doctor's confirmed that not only is it malignant, it-its inoperable." Ross's dark eyes grew saucer wide and were full of childlike fear.

"Ar-Ar-Are they sure?" he stammered.

"Yes." was all Rachel could say in response.

"And none of you called to tell me?" He now sounded angry as well and jerked his hand away from Rachel.

Rachel felt helpless, knowing that her true excuse was deficient. "Ross, we didn't want to interrupt you at work, we figured-"

"I can't believe you guys!" he screamed. "You all receive the news that my sister's dying and don't even bother to _tell_ me? You think I don't care more about my sister than my work? I CANNOT BELIEVE YOU!"

Ross glared at Rachel with infuriated eyes, but also he was shaking with tears streaming down his face. Rachel's heart ached for him and she tentatively placed a comforting hand on his back. She was about to speak when he began frenziedly pounding his fists on her shoulders.

"You bitch!" he sobbed out. "I hate you, Rachel! I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!!!" Ross screamed himself hoarse while sobbing at the same time.

Despite his curses and punches, which inflicted no pain on Rachel whatsoever, she shieldingly wrapped her arms around him, hugging his racking body close.

"Shh, Shh, I'm so sorry, sweetie, you're right. I'm so sorry..." Ross at last stopped his pummeling and yelling, and just weakly sagged in her arms, still sobbing forcefully. Rachel stroked his hair gently, letting him cry.

"Why her?" he choked through hysterical tears. "Why _my_ sister? She di-didn't deserve it, Rach!" Hitching sobs that caused his body to shudder violently followed his grief-stricken words.

"I know she didn't, honey. And I don't know why. Life's just not fair." Rachel's voice cracked as she stated the bitter truth. Ross continued to cry for the next few minutes, soaking Rachel's shirtfront with tears.

"Shh..." she continued to whisper, trying both to calm Ross and slow her own heartbeat down. "You know that I'm always here for you, Ross. We all are." All he could do was nod against the front of her shoulder.

"I'm s-so sorry Rachel," he said through tears and chattering teeth. "I-I don't hate you. P-Please don't leave me."

"Never, sweetie," she promised, kissing his hair gently. "I'll never, ever leave you. I'll always be here. Shh.... it's okay..."

But Ross knew it wasn't. Instead of responding he just nestled as close in Rachel's arms as he could get, shivering and crying profusely.

* * *

Ross sat in the waiting room with Rachel's supportive arm around his shoulders. Although he was still in repulsive shock from several hours before, he had been unable to cry since. Knowing that Rachel was there and would be strong for him throughout this nightmare calmed his inner dread. It went the same for her, the feeling of being needed and providing comfort. Monica's doctor at last entered the desolate room and motioned to the pair. Ross turned to face Rachel. 

"You go first, please. I'm not ready."

Rachel smiled. "Okay," she said, gently rubbing his shoulder and kissing his cheek. "Make sure he eats something." She called to Phoebe and Joey, who had just entered. Then she was gone, before Ross could complain that she was being somewhat maternal. Deep down, he was actually touched by how much she cared. It was what he needed right now.

* * *

Rachel entered Monica's hospital room and winced at her friend's frail, sleeping form. She carefully tiptoed to her beside and sat in the chair already placed there. Not wanting to startle her awake, Rachel tentatively touched Monica's hand. Obviously awake, her blue eyes popped open and smiled weakly up at her best friend. Rachel brushed a dark strand of hair off her face. 

"Hey, sweetie. How do you feel?"

Monica shrugged. "I've been better. But I've also accepted it, Rachel. I'm just worried about leaving you all ."

Rachel squeezed her thin hand. "I know, Mon," she said, her voice cracking. "But don't worry about us, sweetie. Just enjoy life. We'll be here...until the end."

Monica smiled that gorgeous beam of hers that would never leave Rachel's memory and her eyes filled with tears. Her tender expression communicated eternal gratitude.

"How's Ross?" she asked. Rachel's face turned grim.

"Not good at all. He scared me to death when he reacted, Mon. I've never seen him or anyone cry like that before."

"Oh, God, can I see him? Sorry, it's not that I don't want to be with you, it's just I need to tell him some things."

"Hey, it's okay, of course. Anything you want, Monica. We love you, and you're our main concern," Rachel bent down and kissed Monica's forehead. "I'll send him up, sweetie." She turned away quickly so that Monica wouldn't see her tears.

Once in the hallway again, Rachel wiped her eyes, knowing she had to be strong for Ross and her other friends. It was obvious that Monica was counting on her, and the last thing she wanted was to let her best friend down.


	3. Chapter 3: Raw Grief

**CHAPTER 3**

"Sweetie, you have to eat," Phoebe ordered, gesturing to the plate of salad, sandwich, and diet coke in front of her on the booth table she was sitting at. Ross, across from her and next to Joey, sighed and stared at the meal before him. For nearing ten minutes, his two friends had been prodding him to accomplish something that should have been as easy as breathing air. Still, it somehow seemed impossible.

Joey patted his back. "Come on, man. You can do it."

Ross finally picked up the sandwich and took a pathetic bite. Phoebe applauded optimistically just as he heard his name.

"Ross!" Rachel's voice called. Ross turned and saw her scuttling across the cafeteria toward them. She halted at their table and rested her hand on his shoulder. "Mon wants to see you, honey."

"Now?" Phoebe whined. "We had just experienced the beginning of a breakthrough." Ross laughed and shrugged apologetically for appearance's sake, but deep down he was on the verge of losing it.

Ross quickly got up, leaving his friends behind. His trembling legs carried him through the cafeteria and waiting room all the way to Monica's room. She was lying down, resting her eyes again. Ross carefully approached his sister's bedside and laid a hand on her shoulder, prompting her eyes to flutter open. She smiled at the sight of her brother.

"Hi, sweetie," she whispered, altering herself into a sitting position.

"Hey, Mon," he responded shakily.

Monica motioned for him to sit down and, when he did, reached for his hand, squeezing it gently. Ross felt tears sting his eyes as he observed strength, fearlessness, and evident worry for him in her cerulean orbs. She reached over and brushed a tear off of his cheek.

"Ross, don't cry." she said gently. "Sweetie, I'm not scared of dying, I'm only scared of leaving you. All I want is to know that you're going to be all right."

"I don't think I will be," he responded miserably, tears flowing freely down his face. "I can't imagine my life without you, Monica, and I just...I just can't..." He was unable to go on and sobbing openly once again. Monica reached out and pulled him into her arms. He clung to her and rested his cheek on her shoulder, taking in the warmth emanating from her delicate form. He knew it wasn't macho, but he was physically sick of always being the strong one. A human soul could only take so much sorrow, especially so much all at the same time.

Monica held her brother and let him cry. When she had received the fateful news that morning, she had instinctively worried about Ross the most out of everyone, even before Chandler. She only hoped and prayed that Rachel would be there for him, as he would need her now more than ever. Maybe this sad occurrence would cement their relationship once and for all, and they would finally be able to give each other the love they each so desperately longed for. The mere thought made her smile.

* * *

Much later that night, the gang had reluctantly decided to go home and rest. Rachel gazed around at all of her friends, wondering who looked the worst. She concluded with Chandler and Ross.

"Chandler, honey," she said, taking his hand. "Do you want to stay at our place tonight?"

"No, no," he answered, wiping away the tears that had incessantly been shed since the morning. "I need to be alone."

"Okay," she assented softly. "If you change your mind, you know you can call us, or actually, just come over." He nodded his thanks, and Rachel, then Ross, hugged him warmly. They did the same to Phoebe and Joey, who would each be staying at Joey's place that night.

Rachel then slipped her arm through Ross's, and led him to the cab she had summoned. The ride home was silent. Rachel had her arm consolingly around Ross, and he had let his head rest on her shoulder. He had almost drifted off when the taxi halted in front of Central Perk.

When the twosome was finally back in their apartment, Ross immediately went to his room and shut the door behind him. Rachel remained in the middle of the living room and gazed at the closed entrance. As Emma was at her mother's house for the evening, Rachel had nothing else to do. Finally, she decided to act the same as Ross had.

* * *

Rachel awoke in the middle of the night to hear faint sobs coming from the living room. She tightly wrapped her light blue robe around her and slowly crept out of her room. There was Ross, sitting with his back to her and shoulders bobbing in sync with the cries. Rachel carefully, so as not to startle Ross, made her way over to him and sat down. She put her arm around his shoulders and held him close. He continued to shake and sob in her embrace. After a few minutes, Rachel spoke.

"Ross, honey, come with me," she whispered, and gently tugged him off the couch. Wary, he allowed her to take his hand and lead him back to her room. She pulled him down on the bed next to her.

"I don't want you to have to be alone tonight. Why don't you stay in here with me?"

Ross sighed miserably. "Rachel..." he began, starting to cry again. "I...I just can't do this tonight..."

Rachel hugged him to her, cutting him off. "Oh, no, no, no, Ross, I didn't mean it like that. Shh, calm down. All I meant was that, you're a mess and you shouldn't have to wake up like this and be alone. Just stay here, I'll hold you and keep you company."

"You really don't mind?" he inquired in a shaky, but perceptively grateful, voice.

"Oh, sweetie, of course not. I want to be here for you, just like I promised I would. This has been an emotional day for all of us, especially you. So, come here."

She pulled back the covers, and got underneath, sitting up against the pillows. Then she held out her arms to Ross, and he willingly laid back against her, securing his weary head on her shoulder and gripping her arms tightly. Rachel gently rubbed his forearms and settled her chin on his head. A peaceful, almost content, silence stretched as the pair lay together comfortably.

Finally, Ross spoke again. "What am I going to do without her, Rach? What are we all going to do?"

Rachel sighed. "I guess we'll go on living. I know Mon would want us to."

"But how?" he asked in the childlike, panicked voice that tugged at Rachel's heartstrings. "I don't think I can." He added, his voice breaking.

"I know it's seems that way now, honey, believe me, I do. But you have me and Emma. You're never alone. We're in this together, I promise. I'll always be here for you."

"Emma. I don't deserve her. Monica wanted a baby, and she deserves one. There are so many people out there that have children they don't bother caring for. Mon will never get the chance, and kids need people like her. Why, Rachel, why? She doesn't have any and I have two."

"You're right. Mon would have made a great mother, and it's so sad that she never will get the opportunity. Life's not fair. But, Ross, you're also wrong. You do deserve Emma, and Ben. You're a wonderful father with two wonderful kids who are very lucky. I won't deny that I'm lucky, too."

"I appreciate hearing that Rachel, but still..." he felt so confused, he didn't know what to say next. "I just..." he trailed off, starting to cry. Rachel held him tighter.

"Honey, just try to get some rest. I'll be right here. Everything will be okay, sweetie..." she kept whispering words of comfort as he cried himself to sleep in her arms.


	4. Chapter 4: The End of an Era

**CHAPTER 4**

Six weeks had passed since the gang had received the news that Monica's illness was terminal. Her husband, brother, and other three best friends had hung in there, and Monica was relieved that they would at least have each other, as her time was nearing. Three weeks ago, she had requested to go home to live under hospice care. She wanted to resume what normal life she could and also was sure that she didn't want to die in the hospital.

One rainy, comfortable Sunday afternoon, the gang was seating in the living area of Monica and Chandler's apartment in front of the television set, sharing a delicious, quaint lunch. Monica glanced around at the five people she loved more than anything in the world, and everything felt right. This was just how she wanted to leave things on Earth. All of a sudden, she felt a horrible pain in her head and seized her temples.

"Honey?" Chandler said, putting an arm around her shoulders. "You okay?"

"Oh, sweetie... my...my head..."

Rachel immediately stood up. "I'm calling Stanton," she announced. Dr. Kimberly Stanton had been Monica's home doctor, who came at least twice a week to the apartment to distribute her pain medication.

Chandler lifted his wife off the couch and carried her to their bedroom. Laying her down gently, he winced at her pinched white face, which was the portrait of wrenched pain. He sat down on the edge of the bed and held her hand until Dr. Stanton at last arrived. Ross, Rachel, Phoebe, and Joey had all crowded in the room as well, their faces anxious.

"Bad headache?" the doctor questioned. Monica wondered why she would ask such a thing, unless she was blind. To weak to argue, however, she nodded.

Dr. Stanton extracted a syringe from her bag, pulled back Monica's sleeve, and injected the needle in her vein. Normally, Monica hated these shots, but she was too sick to feel them anymore. The doctor also measured her temperature and blood pressure. Chandler looked at his wife's doctor and didn't like her expression.

"Is it time?" Monica asked what was on all of their minds.

Dr. Stanton gazed at her grimly. "I'm afraid it's near, dear. Your blood pressure and temperature are dropping."

Rachel felt Ross grab her hand and cling to it desperately. She reached her other hand over and placed it soothingly on his shoulder. She herself was taken aback. They had all been preparing for this moment for over a month, but now that it was actually here, they were in a state of shock and disbelief all over again.

"So, what happens now?" Monica asked after a moment of silence. It was amazing that she was the only individual in the room able to find her voice.

"We keep you in bed and as comfortable as possible." Dr. Stanton said. "Your friends and I are all here." The rest of the gang nodded in agreement. "You may or may not slip into a coma. If so, your lungs will fill with fluid, and you'll just stop breathing."

Whether it was visible or obscure, everybody else in the room shuddered.

Monica cleared her throat. "Can I be alone with my friends?" she asked her doctor.

"Of course," Stanton replied. "I'll be in the living room if you need anything." She got up and left. Rachel pulled Ross over to the bed and sat beside Chandler. Phoebe and Joey climbed on the other side.

"How do you do this, Mon?" Rachel asked, reaching for her friend's hand and rubbing it.

"Do what, sweetie?"

"How do you just accept that this is happening to you?" Rachel tried desperately to hold back the tears lingering in her throat.

"I have you guys with me, and that makes all the difference in the world."

Chandler suddenly couldn't hold it back any longer. He burst into tears and fell into his wife's arms. She held him close, stroking his back.

"Shh, sweetie..." she whispered calmingly.

"I love you s-so....m-much, Mon," he sobbed. Phoebe, Joey, and Ross had also let their dams disintegrate and leaned in to hug the couple. Rachel put her arms over Ross and Chandler's backs and joined the group embrace.

"Oh, you guys," Monica spoke from within the huddle. "I love you all so much. You've been my reason to even bother living these past weeks. I couldn't have done it without any of you. Now just do me one last favor and be there for each other, too."

They all pulled back slightly. Rachel rested one hand on Chandler and Ross' shoulders, and Phoebe and Joey had an arm around one another. They all nodded to Monica wordlessly.

"Good," she said. "Cause you know I'll be watching." She smiled despite her pain and frailty, then drew her friends into a hug again.

By the time an hour had passed, Monica had said separate goodbyes to Phoebe, Joey, and her husband. Her parents, Ben, and Carol were also there. As Chandler had just come out, he motioned to Ross and Rachel, seeming to choked with emotion to say anything. For some reason, Monica had wanted them to come in together.

As Chandler sat down between Joey and Phoebe, Rachel gently took Ross' hand and pulled him to his shaking feet. She led him into his sister's room and quietly closed the door. Monica motioned for her brother to come closer to her and grasped his hand.

"Ross," she whispered feebly. "You have been the most wonderful brother anyone could ask for. Emma and Ben are very lucky to have you for their father. I'm going to miss you and your caring personality, which I feel I took advantage of. I love you so much."

Ross bit his lip and his eyes brimmed over with tears. His couldn't stifle the tremors that longed to escape him. Rachel held his free arm and was stroking it gently. Monica turned to her best friend.

"Rachel. You are my best friend and like the sister I never had. You have always been there for me when I need you. Now, do the same for my brother, please. He'll need you now more then ever." Rachel turned and looked at Ross with tear-filled, tender eyes, gave him a weak smile, and then looked down at her dying friend.

"Of course," she whispered. "You have my word. I'll take care of him." She slid one arm around Ross' back and placed her free hand securely on his shoulder. Monica smiled softly and, apparently, for the last time. She drew in a deep breath and was then eerily still.

Ross buried his face in his hands and shook with sobs. Rachel put her arms around him for support, and stared ahead with tears stinging her own eyes. Then Ross fell to his knees, and Rachel immediately went down as well, whilst she enfolded him in her arms. His sobs were muffled by her chest and tears soaked through her shirt. Rachel held him tightly and closely, tears slowly running down her face.

"This can't be happening," Ross sobbed. "My sister, my little sister, is dead."

"I know, Ross," Rachel choked, and began to cry herself. "But think of it this way: she's no longer in pain, and finally at peace." She struggled to control her sobs, and focused on providing comfort for the broken man in her arms. Rachel rubbed his back and gently rocked him back and forth. Some time later, through tears, her eyes caught sight of two paramedics lifting Monica off the bed and onto a stretcher. Rachel hadn't even realized that the door had been opened. Ross, who had apparently noticed, pulled abruptly away from Rachel.

"No! Please don't take her!" he screamed at the paramedics, who were covering his sister with a sheet. Rachel stood up and pulled him back as he tried to restrain the carrier they were about to transfer out.

"Ross, sweetie, there's nothing you can do. Let them take her." Rachel persuaded, trying to sound soothing at the same time.

Ross broke down again, swaying and nearly collapsing, but Rachel held him up. Once the paramedics had gone to store Monica's body in a freezer, Ross turned around at looked at Rachel, his pale, blotchy face streaked with tears. She reached over and placed her hand on his cheek, brushing off the tears. She then hugged him tightly again. Shaking, he hugged her back and clung desperately.

Rachel sat down on the bed, taking Ross with her. He hid his face in her shirt and sobbed uncontrollably. Rachel just held him and left him cry in her arms, having never felt more empty in her life. However, being needed and providing comfort for her dead friend's brother filled the void somewhat, as she knew she was keeping the promise she had made. Also, she hated seeing Ross this way and wanted to do anything she could to make him whole again. It now was the bitter end of a memorable era.


	5. Chapter 5: The Hardest Goodbye

**CHAPTER 5**

Three days had elapsed since the single worst day of five certain peoples' lives. That afternoon, Ross was about to attend an occasion he never dreamed or wanted to imagine would ever occur: his younger sister's funeral. He was sitting on the couch in his apartment, holding his daughter in his arms and waiting for Rachel to be ready. He sat there staring off into space and stroking Emma's short, downy hair. He wasn't looking forward to this not only because he wasn't sure if he could psychologically and physically handle setting eyes on Monica in a casket, but also because he didn't want to see or talk to anyone, not even his parents. It seemed that Chandler, and maybe Rachel, were the only ones who knew just what he felt.

Still, he had an obligation to honor his sister and would not stand her up.

Rachel finally emerged from her room, dressed in a simple black pantsuit with her golden hair falling straight and sleek down her shoulders. She smiled sadly at Ross as she sat down beside him, placing a hand on his knee.

"You ready?" she asked softly.

Ross wanted to scream _"Am I _ready_, Rachel? _Am I ready?_ Do you think I'm ever ready to say goodbye to my dead sister, your best friend? Am I ever ready to walk away from that cemetery, knowing I will never see her again?..."_ He could think of several other things to shout following that. However, he knew that Rachel was just trying to be strong for him and was hurting within as well.

Instead he returned her small smile and nodded. "You look nice."

Rachel's eyes glowed with tenderness. "Oh." She uttered, drawing him and Emma into a warm hug. They held each other for a long moment before finally pulling apart and gazing at one another with mutual pain as well as understanding.

"Let's go," she whispered, standing up. Ross did the same and followed her, carrying his toddler daughter. Rachel put on her black coat and then slipped Ross' on for him as he shifted Emma from one arm to the other. After that, she opened the door and gently nudged him out before her.

Rachel walked beside Ross through the threshold of the dimly lit church and felt drearier than ever. The first familiar faces she recognized were Carol and Susan along with ten-year-old Ben. Sentiment filled Rachel's heart as she recalled the day Ross' son was born, as if it were yesterday.

Ben saw his father and immediately sprinted toward them. "Dad!" His young voice sounded choked.

Ross transferred Emma into her mother's arms and caught Ben in his. He had bent down to meet his son's height and held him sturdily to him. Rachel heard sobbing and she wasn't sure whether it was the father or son. She logically concluded that it was coming from both.

Ben pulled away, his face streaked with tears. "I miss her, Daddy. Why'd she have to die?"

Ross wiped his own tears. "I miss her, too, son. But she'll always be with us." He pulled Ben against him again. Rachel did the same with Emma, her eyes filling with tears as well. She rested her comforting hand on Ross's back and then shifted it to Ben's blond hair. It was then that she noticed Susan and Carol standing over them.

"Hi, Carol," Rachel greeted solemnly. "Hi, Susan.

"Hey, Rach," Susan returned.

"Hey," Carol said. "Hi, Emma." She added, touching the baby's head. She hugged Ross as he stood up. "I'm so sorry, Ross. I know how close you two were. Ben misses her so much."

Then Ross actually hugged Susan, something Rachel would never have presumed he would do under any circumstances. Once they had broken the embrace, Ross scurried away from her to sit down in the reserved front bench. Rachel followed him and put an arm around his quivering shoulders, settling their daughter directly in the center of both their laps. Chandler sat on her opposite side in the arms of Phoebe, who was next to Joey.

On Ross' other side, Judy and Jack Geller sat down as the service was about to begin. For the first time since he had been just a little kid, Ross rested his head on his mother's shoulder.


	6. Chapter 6: A Light in Darkness

**CHAPTER 6**

Ross was sitting on his bed and reading a book that he was having a hard time getting into. He wasn't too discouraged to be interrupted by a knock on the door.

"Come in." he called. There appeared Rachel, still dressed in her funeral clothes. She gave him a warm smile and slowly walked over to the edge of his bed, where she sat down.

"How are you doing?" she asked, placing a hand on his knee.

Ross shrugged. "As good as can be expected. You?"

Rachel nodded. "Same, pretty much. I just put Emma down, by the way. Do you want to talk about anything?"

Ross was quiet before answering. "Not right now. I'm really tired."

"Okay," Rachel replied. She then bent forward to kiss his cheek. "Goodnight, Ross. You know where I am."

"You know what, I really don't want to be alone," Ross informed Rachel as she was about to stand up. His brown eyes bore seriously and somewhat seductively into hers. Rachel instantly grew uncomfortable. She knew that look.

While Rachel was frantically contemplating how to respond, Ross all at once leaned in toward her face. She reflexively backed up. To conceal her reaction, she pulled him against her. She hoped the hug would clear his mind and the attempted pass would slip by unnoticed. However, when they broke the embrace, he leaned in to kiss her again, and she jumped off the bed.

"Ross, honey, listen, under the circumstances, I don't think that sleeping together tonight would be such a good idea. It's been an emotional time, and I understand completely that you're feeling vulnerable and sensitive. Besides, I don't want to feel like I'm taking advantage of you."

"You won't be taking advantage of me! I'm _giving_ you the advantage," he pointed out. "Come on, Rach, it'll be fun. You know how good we are."

"Yes, good point, we are certainly...adept. But Ross, we're adults and we have a daughter. We're pretty much past the point where we can be fooling around anymore." Ross was staring down, and she couldn't read his expression. Rachel sat back down in front of him and lifted his chin gently so their eyes met. "Please, honey, I don't want to lose you over something that can be avoided and worked past. You mean too much too me."

Ross's dark eyes filled with tears and he looked away from her, silently resuming gazing down. "Okay," he answered after a while. His voice sounded choked and emotive, which concerned Rachel. She took his hand.

"You all right?"

"Yeah, sure." He replied unconvincingly, wiping under his eyes with the back of his hand.

"Honey, you're crying," she said gently.

"Okay, you want me to be honest, Rachel?" he yelled hysterically. "No, I am not all right! My sister's dead, and I, on the other hand, have no damn life to show for my thirty-three years! Okay?" Tears were streaming non-stop down his cheeks, which he had tried to hide from Rachel by turning away. The smallest things were causing him too lose it lately, which wasn't something he was proud of or comfortable with.

"No, no," she contended, softly rotating him toward her and looking into his watered eyes. "It's far from okay, Ross. I don't want to make you miserable, please. I could never live with myself if I knew I was doing that, intentionally or involuntarily. All I want is to be there for you." Ross just stared at her, struggling to seem impassive, but with fresh tears welling. "Sweetie, you look so exhausted. Why don't you get some rest, and we'll talk about this in the morning. Everything will be okay, I promise." She kissed him again, this time on the forehead. With a final, sympathetic smile, she turned around and, within just a few footsteps, closed the door behind her.

Ross was left staring into space for the stretch of several minutes. His eyes slowly wandered over to a framed photograph on his bedside table. It was of him and Monica at her wedding reception several years ago. The jovial picture alone caused Ross to break down for the nearly the fiftieth time since his sister's death. He turned himself so his face hid in the depths of his pillow and sobbed himself to sleep in just a few draining minutes.

* * *

The next morning, Rachel was seated at the round kitchen table, drowsily swirling a spoon in her bowl of soggy cereal. Beside her, Emma was settled in her highchair, scrappily munching on dry cheerios. At the moment, the baby could be described as the exact converse of her mother. 

Rachel had slept horribly the night before. Although she knew on some level that she had done the right thing by refusing Ross's invitation, that didn't obliterate the gnawing guilt she had felt while lying there in the dark. She had heard his sobs coming from the other room and wanted more than anything to go take him in her arms and tell him how sorry she was. Yet restlessness and unbearable confusion had restrained her.

She loved Ross. There was no doubt in her mind, and in a subconscious part of her brain, she had known all along. Unfortunately, she had refused to listen to and accept it. She had taken advantage of this man who was madly in love with her and only mistake was being there for her unconditionally over the years. Because Ross had always been so good at putting up a strong exterior, she was fooled that certain things didn't affect him. That day several months ago when she had come home to him in tears by the window showed her that she couldn't have been more wrong. It hadn't been until the death of his sister, her best friend, that she realized how awfully he could hurt.

Rachel felt like kicking herself for being the stupidest person she had ever known. Ross deserved better than her, which she decided she was going to make herself. Once Ross woke up, she would tell him everything that had been going through her mind. She was unable to stand him being hurt by her, along with harboring the truly unshakable pain that had come with Monica's death.

Coming to think of it, Rachel saw that it was past noon and Ross still wasn't up. This worried her. He never slept in this late, even on the weekends. Forgetting momentarily about her daughter, Rachel stood up and hurried to the door of his room, carefully pushing it opened. When it was fully ajar, she found the answer to her query.

Ross was gone.

* * *

Ross stood directly in front of the tombstone marking his sister's body six feet below. The brisk Manhattan wind whipped at him, making him shiver unconsciously. 

A lodge of tangled emotions subsisted inside him, although any passerby would never have noticed. Well, maybe one. But she would never come here.

She didn't love him.

Rachel. The only woman he had ever truly loved, even during his other marriages. The woman who had continually been by his side for the past few days, and weeks, and also was the mother of his daughter. He must have been so frazzled the previous night that his signals had come off wrong, making her think him out of sorts.

But he had meant it. And now he had freaked her out too much to sit down and tell her properly.

A lone tear slid down Ross's cheek. He had lost his sister and the love of his life in the same few days, and he wouldn't be surprised if this indescribable anguish wasn't over for him. He felt torn between throwing himself in front of a car to land him in the ground next to Monica and going home to face Rachel. He was still in a daze when suddenly a coat wrapped about him from behind. Rachel then stood in front of him.

"Oh, my God, Ross, you're shivering." Ross' eyes watered as he recalled when his sister had admonished him with the same concerned phrase when Emily, yet another woman who refused to love him back, had shot him down. "Come on, you should come home, it's not good to be here so soon." Rachel rubbed his arms and held her coat tightly around him. He reached over and grasped her arms.

"Rachel, please tell me," he begged, on the verge of tears. "Do you love me, or not?"

Rachel gazed into his deep, pained eyes with sympathetic, loving ones of her own. Then she placed her hands on his face, brushing away the tears that had fallen. Subsequently, the distance was closed.

Ross's hands released her arms and slid down the sides of her torso. In his mind, he was taken back nearly ten years ago when she had provided him with this treatment for the first time. It was one of the few things in his life that felt just right.

When they were both out of breath, they broke the kiss and just hugged tightly, shielding each other against the cold. One of Rachel's warm hands rested at the nape of Ross's neck, gently fingering his hair. His hands bunched her lighter coat she had worn underneath in tight fists, holding on for dear life.

"I'm so sorry, Ross. I'm so sorry, sweetie," came her whisper. "I love you more than anything. I'm so sorry about everything, and I promise that I will be here for you until the day I die."

"Rachel..." was all he said in reply, drowning in her presence and ardor. "Rachel, I love you..."

The couple remained in the cemetery, holding one another for what seemed like forever. Above them, they were sure that a certain spirit was smiling down.

THE END


End file.
